Thursday, July 17, 2014

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 128

Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked. It's
Thursday today, so get your flash ready. Writing a
#flashfiction thread! Welcome to Week 128 of #ThursThreads, the challenge
that ties tales together. Want to keep up each week? You're welcome to
join the FB #ThursThreads group where we'll do events and make announcements. Need the rules? Read on.

Here's how it works:

The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale.

The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.

Rules to the Game:

This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.

Incorporate the prompt anywhere into your story (included in your word count).

Post your story in the comments section of this post

Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)

Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)

The challenge is open 7 AM to 8 PM Mountain Time

The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up.

How it benefits you:

You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we're all about promotion - you know you are!)

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” I said as I unlocked the closet that served as my office.

“What? And miss the chance to direct McMillian County High School’s latest adaptation of ‘To Kill A Mockingbird?’”

I laughed and dropped my bags on my desk. “Broadway can live without the great Collin O’Connor for a month?”

He shrugged.

I fished the key to the theater out of the top drawer and let him follow me down the hall.

He opened the door and waited for me to step into the darkened auditorium, then took my hand and pulled me up the aisle. “How is it possible that it still smells like Coach Phillip’s toxic cologne in here?”

I hadn’t thought about it in years, but he was right. “I don’t know. He died a couple of years ago. Maybe he’s come back to a haunt us.”

He took the steps two at a time and moved to center stage. “I always thought the two of us would take Broadway by storm.”

And with a single sentence all of the heartache and disappointment I had buried in my self-proclaimed duty to teach raced forward and punched me in the gut.

Within two steps of retreat his arms were around me. He always knew when he said the wrong thing and he always knew how to take away the sting.

“Well, that wasn’t well thought-through at all. So much for intelligent design, it seems like somebody wasn’t paying attention at all when creating that experiment there.”

”Perhaps we should start again.”

“Right. Back to the drawing board everyone.”

They all started for the door, except the tall one, who remained in the lab, cleaning up the mess.

“All right, I’ll just blast this Petri dish clean, and we can have another go. At least, we didn’t waste too much time and effort this time. What did we call this one, again? Ah, Earth. Yeah, no, that didn’t work. At all.”

Nikolas Constantine, Drakon of Clan Kholikikos, understood duty. A dragon, he believed duty and pleasure could mix. He straightened the French cuffs beneath the sleeves of the custom suit he wore. The door to his office opened and his favorite FBI agent marched in. Her bottle-green eyes snapped with inner fire. He resisted the urge to glance at the drawer where an emerald necklace he’d commissioned waited. One stalked Sade Marquis rather than wooed.

“Welcome, Sade.”

“Cut to the chase, Nikos. Where’s the missing CDC investigator?”

Ah, yes. His Sade’s lack of manners could be an irritant. “I have no idea. What CDC investigator?”

She pressed her palms on his desk and leaned closer, staring into his eyes as if she could discern his very thoughts. “I’m not yours, Nikos, but you’re telling the truth.” Sade deflated. “Well…damn.”

Nikos hid his reaction to her comment, wondering if she could read his mind. “Perhaps we should start again. Explain what is happening.” As enforcer of his clan, he responded to any threats.

“There’s been some sort of outbreak.” Sade scrubbed her hands through her long, dark hair. “But it only affects dragons. I’m surprised you don’t know.”

“It has not affected Kholikikos.” She had his attention now.

“Dr. Melanie Karras from the CDC was investigating. She’s missing.”

His phone buzzed. Answering, he listened. “How many?” He hung up. “I will find your investigator. Clan Kholikikos has now been affected.”

Bethany had already soaped up her hair and currently scrubbed her arms above the water surface. He turned his back before his cock rose in salute to the tops of her creamy breasts bobbing in the warm liquid. Too late. He submerged quickly, wetting down his own hair.

The discomfort of shared nudity gave way to relief and pleasure of the hot water surrounding his body. He scrubbed his own limbs and reveled in the sensation of getting clean. And relaxing. Despite their guards, they remained alone in the baths and some of the tension left Mack's shoulders.

"Feel better?"

Bethany's voice carried over the steaming water and he found her scrubbing her head with something resembling pale slime.

"I was until I saw your hair. What is that?"

She laughed and dunked her head backwards, her breasts arching out of the water as she rinsed. Mack damn near forgot to breathe as her nipples teased his gaze.

"It's the centaur version of conditioner."

"What?"

"The slime in my hair. It's conditioner." She tilted her head and a smug smile quirked her lips. "You don't even know what I'm talking about right now, do you?"

"What you're talking about?" He knew he'd repeated her words stupidly, but his brain had gone straight to his cock and coherency was the first casualty.

"Perhaps we should begin again, Major. Do you want any soap for your bath or do you just want to bob there with your mouth open?"

My husband spent almost ten years searching for my birth parents. I was the fuck up kid who ran away from home, fried his memory on drugs, and got lucky enough to get an adoptive family. I had no memory of the two people standing in the kitchen. I seemed to be an odd combination of my birth parents: mom had my eyes, dad had my height. We stared at each other, no one brave enough to make the first move.

"Jim, aren't you going to say something?"

I looked over at my adoptive mom, Eleanor. I wasn't ready for this; I didn't want to be here. I stuffed one hand in my jeans pocket, then ran outside, shoving a cigarette in my mouth. Smoke curled into my lungs until I thought I'd pass out from holding my breath. I sucked in another round of smoke, held it, then blew it out.

Snubbing out my cancer stick, I turned to face the house. Pulling in a deep breath, I went inside, determined to acknowledge my birth parents. I stood in the kitchen and took my husband's hand. He squeezed it, nodding to me.

"Perhaps we should start again," I said. I gave my birth mom a cautious hug. She started crying.

"We've missed you, Jimmy," she whispered.

She wiped her face as I moved to hug dad. Maybe this would help calm my nerves.

I hit the forest, determined to put as much distance between me and the mighty morphing tree people as possible before sunset. The trees shuddered and sighed as I passed, and more than one shifted into human form to protest my departure.

“Fuck off. Better yet, leave.”

I needed a trail. A way home.

The gentle terrain made for an easy hike and the anger burning through me drove my steps. Five klicks, maybe more, and I stopped to take a breath. The trees were finally silent, except for the occasional breeze whispering through.

“I don’t suppose I can take this as a sign I’m home?”

Adrius, the last man-tree I wanted or needed to see, answered my question.

I felt her presence. Serene and holy, perfection at the moment of creation. I had to lower my eyes to keep from seeing her directly. The goodness and joy inside of her made my skin crawl.

I could feel her take my hands in hers. She burned and I almost pulled my hands away. I still couldn’t look up.

“Why are you here?” Death rattling around in my throat and pushing through burnt lips.

“You are dying.”

I tried to nod but my head just wiggled a bit. I could feel it, the demon coming out from inside. Taking control. I would soon not be me and I deserved such an end.

I opened my eyes and looked at her for a moment. Just seeing her powerful form hurt me in such a way but I didn't look away.

“Perhaps we should start again.”

“My fate is deserved.” I sighed. Regret flowing through me.

She didn't try to console me or tell me how good I really am. She just took me in her arms and held me as my spirit fled my body. I could feel the flames around me consuming my soul. She stayed cool and calm.

Moments later I opened my eyes

“You are a lucky man Mr. Benjamin. Don't try to talk. You survived unscathed but you inhaled a large amount of smoke.

I nodded. The doctor some more and let me be. I survived? The image of an angel burned brightly than faded away.

About Me

Siobhan Muir lives in Cheyenne, Wyoming, with her husband, two
daughters, and a vegetarian cat she swears is a shape-shifter, though he's
never shifted when she can see him.

Siobhan writes kick-ass adventure with hot sex for men and women
to enjoy. She believes in happily ever after, redemption, and communication,
all of which you will find in her paranormal romance stories.